


Tumbleweed

by Drakochan



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, Eventually McHanzo, F/M, Fatherly Gabriel Reyes, Flashbacks, M/M, Many many more characters to come, McCree goes to Japan, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Side ship Anahardt, Slow Burn, Wholesome father son relationship, Young Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Young Genji Shimada, Young Hanzo Shimada, Young Jesse McCree
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-15 23:08:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8076514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drakochan/pseuds/Drakochan
Summary: Jesse McCree has lived like a tumbleweed too long, so when the summons for Overwatch came, he hopped on the first flight to Gibraltar. What he didn't expect, was the memories it would stir up, and seeing people he'd never expected to see again, particularly the brother of his good friend from his Blackwatch days. The last time they'd met, it hadn't exactly been in the best of circumstances, and the situation was less than ideal.





	1. Friendship

Jesse McCree stood in front of the building with the massive Overwatch symbol emblazoned on the door and wondered what the hell he was doing here. Maybe it was that the last time he’d felt like he was safe and at home was at a place like this, before everything went to shit. Maybe it was because when he’d seen that message pop up from Winston, his heart had beat a little faster, and he’d caught himself smiling for the first time in two weeks, on the run from a pissed off bunch of Deadlock gangsters that he’d crossed to keep from being blamed for their shit.

He’d been blamed for it anyway, and holed up to keep his head down until things quieted down a little, enough for him to finish what he’d come down there for… But he’d dropped it all for that one message. Either way, here he was. He hefted his duffel on his shoulder and pulled his hat low, taking a long drag on the cigarillo, then spit it out, crushing it beneath a boot before striding into the base, plugging in the code Winston had given, and feeling his heart skip a beat as he stepped back into Overwatch. Maybe this time, things would go better...

* * *

Friendship had not been the first thing he’d thought of the first time he’d met the young Japanese man, brought in under some cloak and dagger Blackwatch thing. Only problem was, they may have been good at keeping secrets from the rest of the world, but within base, the gossip ran rampant. Word was, they’d brought in the renowned medical prodigy Angela Ziegler to do some procedure on some kid they’d just brought in. Well, kid might not be the right word. He’d seen just as much violence and cruelty in the world as Jesse had, from the word of things.

McCree was there in the medical ward, recovering from a nasty spill off a moving truck. His eye was still swollen shut when they’d brought him in. A couple broken ribs and a close brush with paralysis, not to mention the broken arm and ankle, had Jesse McCree relegated to bed rest, and there were only so many rooms in the Blackwatch base. So he’d gotten a roommate.

He’d only met Dr. Ziegler once, on his initial trip to the Overwatch HQ, and McCree had been immediately swept away by her wit and charm and how damn grown up she seemed, for being his age. She was no different now, caring for the mysterious patient in the curtained off section of the room. She didn’t even remember him...

“Why they drag you all the way out here? He somethin’ special?” Jesse finally asked, building up the courage to speak up. His ribs didn’t hurt so bad when he spoke, but the doctors said they still wanted to keep an eye on his back, so here he stayed.

“Mind your business,” she scolded flatly in her accented voice, sweet on his ears even with the harsh words, as she closed the curtains, blocking off any curious glances from the cowboy in the next bed over. She glanced over her shoulder at the curtain, then her shoulders fell slightly. She was too young to look so damn tired… “And the facilities here are just as good. Just… smaller.” She glanced around at the room, obviously not impressed.

“Not tryin’ to pry, miss Ziegler. Just… Wonderin’ who I’m gonna be roomin’ with. And why they’re here.” He offered a crooked grin, and nodded slightly.

“I…” Her lips thinned in thought, and she glanced towards the doors. “I don’t suspect he will be much for conversation for some time, but the main Overwatch facilities would have attracted too much attention. They wanted him treated here, for his own privacy. And it’s _Doctor_ Ziegler to you,” she finally added with a sharp nod, straightening her back and looking somewhat indignant at his gall to leave off her title. He only grinned wider, and she let out a scoff, rolling her eyes and striding from the room, shoulders stiff and back straight as a board. Jesse craned his neck, but her lab coat obscured any view of her retreating form.

The whirr of machinery and the hum of medical equipment became a familiar white noise for Jesse, and his curiosity only heightened with every day. The curtain stayed up, and he remained bedridden, at least for the first few days. He began physical therapy and so missed when his roommate woke, but the entire medical ward was abuzz with gossip so he was somewhat forewarned of it when he returned to the room and heard a quiet voice speaking a language he recognized as Japanese only because of his gang’s dealings with overseas weapons deals.

He didn’t quite catch a glimpse beyond Angela’s back, her shoulders stiff with professionalism. She spoke Japanese with the same clinical severity she spoke English. Jesse, surprised at how tired he was, faded into sleep to the musical lilt of muffled words he didn’t understand.

When he woke, the medical ward was quiet and moonlight streamed through the window. He listened to the other half of the room, but it was quiet. There was a faint green glow that had become a constant from beyond the curtain.

“You awake?” Jesse said quietly, staring at the ceiling.

There was a quiet sigh, and the sound of metal on metal as the curtain was pulled aside, and the faint glowing of his components lit the room more brightly. “I am not asleep.” His English was heavily accented, his L’s almost rolling into R’s, and there was something stark and shocking about the appearance of his human face and the clearly almost entirely cybernetic body. Jesse couldn’t help but stare, but to his credit, he didn’t gape open-mouthed.

“Well, you got plenty’a sleep the past couple weeks,” Jesse said cheerfully, and sat up carefully in the bed. He slid off the edge, and offered a hand. “Jesse McCree, pleasure to meetcha.” He had started a bit at the metal, a bit of a reflex after dealing with things he’d seen in the Omnic crisis. He’d been barely more than a boy when it had started, and no reason to blame a man for something he couldn’t help. From the sounds of it, the enhancements were the things that had kept him alive.

The human face softened, and there was something that was almost a smile. “Shimada Genji, _doozo yoroshiku_.” He dipped his head slightly, and then reached out to squeeze Jesse’s hand. It pinched, just too hard of a grip by a bit. Still getting used to the strength of his new cybernetic parts. “Angela told me that you have been here since my arrival. Thank you for your companionship, whether I realized it or not.”

“Ain’t nothin’,” Jesse said with a grin, and settled back against his bed again, crossing his arms behind his head. “I was stuck in a bed same as you. Yours looks a little more serious though.” He waved a hand around his face, and in a very human gesture, Genji's metallic hand moved up to brush his cheek, then a distant look passed over his face, covered in healing scabs that took the form of slashes all across his features. Catching the tone in the room, Jesse shrugged a shoulder. “All I did was fall off a truck, break my back. Broke a few bones and ribs, and landed myself in recovery. Bit of a vacation, really, but if you meet him don’t tell Reyes I said it.”

Gabe had been a frequent visitor, but the past several days he was on a mission. He’d come in before he’d left, and been all quiet concern, gruff and not the best at expressing it, but he’d scolded Jesse gently to behave for the doctor while he was away or he’d really make sure McCree had something to lay around in bed for, or so he said. Jesse had laughed and grasped the offered hand. Gabe had grinned back, and ruffled his hair before taking off, ribbed him for being lazy, though his tone had said he hadn’t really meant it.

“Regardless of the reason, I am grateful.” There was something that was almost a smile, his eyes bright in the moonlight and earnest. Jesse shrugged and rubbed at his cheek. Genji had quirked his head--it reminded Jesse of a bird, a finch or a sparrow maybe--at the name of his commanding officer, but didn’t ask.

“Like I said, no big thing.” He lay back on the bed, aching and thoughtful. “So… Is it Shimada, or is it Genji? If I recollect right, it’s last name first for you over there, yeah?”

“That is correct… Just Genji is fine. I… do not know that I would be welcome to use Shimada any time soon. Or have a desire to.” There was a thinly veiled anger in the words, and that prompted a glance from Jesse. The cybernetic hands clenched into fists, and a few vents hissed with the sudden surge of emotion.

“Genji, then. I won’t pry, ain’t my place. But it is my honor to welcome you to the humble abode of Blackwatch.” He waved vaguely at the building around them, then offered a crooked grin over at Genji. “Not exactly a hero’s welcome, but we ain’t exactly heroes. But it don’t sit well with me to leave a guest unattended, so I will make it my sworn duty to make you feel welcome.”

There was a quiet chuckle, breaking the tension in the air. Silence fell over the room and sleep took him once more. When he woke in the morning, Genji was gone, but he saw him again at his physical therapy appointment. For a week, their schedules matched up, and they took most of their meals and their therapy sessions at the same times, which led to a friendship perhaps only out of close-quarters necessity. Genji improved more quickly than he, the cybernetics providing him with speed and agility that sometimes made Jesse gawk in open-mouthed wonder.

He was surprised to find they hadn’t moved Genji several days later, given his much more capable skills, and the curtain was still open when they both returned that night. For Jesse it was to gather his things to move back to his bunk. He wasn’t cleared for missions just yet, but his therapist stated he was well enough to move back to his barracks.

“I hope that we may speak again soon, Makuree-san.” Despite Jesse’s insistence, Genji had staunchly insisted on using his surname, even oddly pronounced as it was from Genji’s mouth, and with a tinny quality when it came through his visor. He had become quite used to it, as once his face had been deemed healed enough by Dr. Ziegler, he took to wearing the visor constantly.

Jesse clapped the metal shoulder of his newfound friend. “I’m sure we will, Genji-san.” He’d picked up the honorific after he’d learned its meaning, and Genji seemed to take amusement from it. They were the same age, same as Angela, but all of them had been through too much. Too much for young men and women not even twenty.


	2. Enigmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reyes returns from his mission with clues to another, and employs Jesse McCree to assist in figuring it out.

Not long after he’d relocated to his bunk, Jesse heard word that Genji was leaving the Blackwatch base, and would be assigned with Overwatch. He had an official agent number and everything. Jesse dropped by the medical ward to wish him good luck, and bid him farewell.

Genji had his back to the door as he sat on the cot, legs tucked neatly in front of him, and his attention clearly elsewhere. There was a slightly faded strip of gold cloth in his hands that spilled across his lap.

Jesse cleared his throat quietly, and Genji started, then turned, his posture straightening as he slid off the bed, excitement visible in his demeanor. The guy was hard to read, but Jesse had picked up on a few things, and he was usually pretty good at getting a beat on people’s moods, facial expressions or no. He grinned and his hands settled on his hips.

“So, I hear you’re off to become the newest member of Overwatch. Got a shiny badge and a call sign and everything now?” Over the past few weeks, he’d learned that Genji was barely sixteen to his eighteen,

There was a quiet laugh, filtered through the visor, but there was a rich, warm tone to it. A real laugh, Jesse was grateful to note. “Nothing so glamorous. I am going by my name, just Genji. I… Have many things I must make up for. I will not be a full time agent of Overwatch, and Angela says that I have much left in the way of final improvements. She says I am still… _shinkouchou._ I am not completed. ”

Jesse let out a low whistle between his teeth, and grinned at his friend. “Angela, huh? Y’all already that close and she still won’t let me call her nothin’ but Doctor Ziegler.” He clapped a hand on Genji’s arm, and stepped back again to cross his arms over his own chest.

Genji stilled, and his chin dipped in what Jesse could only guess was embarrassment. A couple of the vents on his shoulders hissed quietly, releasing a spit of steam. That only made Jesse grin wider.

“And I think the phrase you’re lookin’ for is ‘work in progress’?” Genji mused, then nodded.

“She said there are some components she still would like to perfect before I go on any missions. And I am still not as used to this body as I would like to be, before I engage in strenuous physical activity.”

“Shit, Genji-san, you been kickin’ my ass at getting back on your feet.”

“But I am still incapable of much I would like to accomplish.” There was a quiet determination, and that thinly veiled anger that peeked its head out in his words now and then. Jesse couldn’t begrudge him that.

“Well, you keep in touch.” Jesse paused, then said to hell with it, and wrapped his arms around his friend, a brief hug bestowed on Genji before he was stepping back awkwardly. “And take care of yourself. Don’t let them make you think you owe them too much…” He’d come too close to doing that himself, but Reyes had sat him down and had a long conversation that had opened Jesse’s eyes that he was very close to making the same mistake he’d made with Deadlock, thinking he needed to do this because he owed them his life.

_“You don’t owe them shit, McCree,” Reyes had said, arms crossed and looking down at the recruit with a scowl._

_“But they…_ You _pulled me from going to max security for the rest of my life.”_

_“Because I saw potential, and you earned every bit of that back by the time you got out of training. Keep your heart in it, but…” There was a flash of bitterness across his mentor’s face, Reyes’s brows knitting together, then easing. Jesse noticed it when he talked about Overwatch, and particularly about Overwatch’s leader, Jack Morrison, fellow super-soldier. Jesse heard rumors, but he’d never gotten the whole story beyond what was common knowledge. They’d handed Overwatch over to the blonde-haired, blue-eyed pretty boy super soldier, so they could plaster his face on all the posters, and word was, they shoved Reyes into Blackwatch to keep him out of the public eye. There’d always been that faint bitterness in Reyes, but he never let it affect his work. “But don’t let it make you throw yourself away. Dedicate yourself to your teams, to your people, but don’t ever let the organization be more than the name. Don’t let it own you. You’re your own man, don’t let Overwatch or Blackwatch change that.”_

Genji just nodded and placed a hand on Jesse’s shoulder.

“Good luck to you, my friend.”

“Sayonara, Genji.” He tipped an imaginary hat, and paused at the sudden chuckle from Genji.

“That is a Japanese word, did you know?”

“What?”

“It was adopted by you westerners for your cowboy movies.” Genji shook his head, and then raised his head again. “Good bye, until we meet again, Makuree-san.” Genji bowed, and Jesse could almost feel the grin through the visor as he turned and took his leave, heading to the mess hall to get dinner and catch up with some of the other Blackwatch agents that were on-site.

* * *

 

A few days later, his tablet blinked insistently as he settled into bed after his physical therapy, and he flipped it on impatiently, wondering what kind of junk email was making its way around the base now. Instead, he was pleasantly surprised by the name displayed as the ‘from’ line.

\--

From: gshimada@overwatch.org  
To: jmccree@overwatch.org

Konnichiwa mccreesan. I am in switzerland now. I was not sure what I could send you, but angela says this channel is secure enough that I can tell you. How are you healing? I hope that you can go on missions soon again. I know you spoke often of being bored and eager to get into the field.

\--

From: jmccree@overwatch.org  
To: gshimada@overwatch.org

I would say keep warm, but you’ve got that all taken care of with all that machinery. I might be jealous but I ain’t going to lie. Word of advice from a man that’s made the mistake: Ask the Doc out after you’re not her patient anymore. She may not harm a fly, but that look of hers can kill. And healing up just fine, thanks for asking.

\--

From: gshimada@overwatch.org  
To: jmccree@overwatch.org

Ha ha ha that is a good joke. My respect for ziegler sensei is professional and nothing else. She has told me of your attempts to attract her affection. It is very funny. I am smarter than you. To borrow a phrase from you, i do not shit where i eat. And there are more important things right now.

\--

From: jmccree@overwatch.org  
To: gshimada@overwatch.org

Yeah alright you keep saying that. But I’m going to start taking bets on the wedding date. ;)

\--

From: gshimada@overwatch.org  
To: jmccree@overwatch.org

I have begun studying the tactics and missions that overwatch has done. There was not much about blackwatch. I heard many things that do not seem to align with the ideals and public image of overwatch.

\--

From: jmccree@overwatch.org  
To: gshimada@overwatch.org

Hey man way to change the subject. But yeah you won’t see much about us. And I wouldn’t go blabbing about it to anyone. Supposed to be the big secret, and Reyes gets kind of intense about it. I can’t really tell you a whole lot, but we’re like… spec ops.

\--

From: gshimada@overwatch.org  
To: jmccree@overwatch.org

What is spec ops?

\--

From: jmccree@overwatch.org  
To: gshimada@overwatch.org

Special operations. We do stuff Overwatch can’t really do since they’re in the public eye.

\--

From: gshimada@overwatch.org  
To: jmccree@overwatch.org

It sounds much like the things my family agents would undertake. Do you know of the shimada?

\--

From: jmccree@overwatch.org  
To: gshimada@overwatch.org

Know of em but nothing much more. They work with Deadlock sometimes?

\--

From: gshimada@overwatch.org  
To: jmccree@overwatch.org

The shimada are a ninja clan. Famous assassins and agents that work in the shadows.

\--

From: jmccree@overwatch.org  
To: gshimada@overwatch.org

No shit? So all that ninja shit you can do is for real? That’s badass. You gotta teach me sometime.

\--

From: gshimada@overwatch.org  
To: jmccree@overwatch.org

Of course that is the significant note you would take from what i say. I mention it because what i see of blackwatch i am much reminded of things the shimada also do.

\--

From: jmccree@overwatch.org  
To: gshimada@overwatch.org

I know Reyes has his eye on them but we never quite make it out to Japan so we ain’t done nothing with it yet. So you’re saying I remind you of a ninja?

\--

From: gshimada@overwatch.org  
To: jmccree@overwatch.org

Not at all. I will return to messages later it is quite late here and i would be wise to sleep.

\--

From: jmccree@overwatch.org  
To: gshimada@overwatch.org

You wound me friend. Buenas noches.

\--

Jesse tossed the tablet aside, and leaned back on his cot, staring at the ceiling and trying to remember everything he’d heard about the Shimada clan over his years in Deadlock. It wasn’t a lot, or nothing he’d paid attention to, anyway. He cursed himself for it now. Reyes always said his curiosity was going to get him into trouble one day, echoing words his mother had spoken all too many times. But now he was curious about the mysterious Genji who didn’t go by his last name and didn’t give out much information on the Shimada.

They dealt in weapons and/or drugs, that was for sure, if they worked with Deadlock. He remembered hearing something about yakuza. Yakuza ninja, huh? Jesse chuckled, trying to imagine Genji in a suit. That bright green dyed hair made it hard to reconcile.

A knock on his door shocked him out of his amused reverie. More out of instinct than an actual need, he rolled out of his cot, wincing at the twinge of ache that shot through his back, a motion that should be comfortable enough again soon.

“ _Vaquero_ , you home?” Jesse couldn’t help but grin at the voice, and immediately moved over to open the door, resisting the urge to embrace his commanding officer and mentor when Reyes was on the other side of the door. “Ah, good.” He looked exhausted, like he’d just come back from his report. “I know you like puzzles, I’ve got one here for ya kid.” Gabriel Reyes, commander of Blackwatch, was a presence in and of himself, even without his combat gear and wearing the simple uniform and a beanie, even with exhaustion clear in the set of his shoulders and the lines of his face.

He’d come from the same batch of super soldiers as Jack Morrison, and everything that came with it. He was of a height with Jesse, but his shoulders were just a little broader. His voice rumbled in his chest with his tossed in phrases in Spanish. It had been one of the reasons Jesse suspected the military man had picked up a punk kid like him, spitting obscenities in Spanish at his captors and madder than a hornet.

Jesse opened the folder, flipped through several pages of what were obviously coded messages, a brow arching as he glanced up at Reyes. “I like a puzzle but this is a goddamn impossibility. What am I lookin’ at?”

“There’s something big going on, and everyone is talking about it. I mean _everyone_. We have about a hundred different ciphers we gotta figure out. Make yourself useful and see if you can’t figure any of it out yeah?”

“We have code breakers for this shit, right?”

Reyes chuckled, low and warm, hands on his hips as he shook his head. “Sure, but they’re already stretched thin. See if you can make anything of it, and I’ll make it worth it for ya, _vaquero_. Going to get some shut-eye, but if you figure it out, come find me.”

“Yessir,” Jesse chimed back, half out of habit, as his eyes skimmed the first message. It was a code alright, and a flip through the book had criminal groups around the world. If they were all related, this was bigger than anything they’d seen before. There were some notes about code words and what they meant, but there was more that was unknown than was known from the looks of it.

Reyes was right about one thing. Jesse did like a good puzzle, and this one was a mite more productive than puzzling on the cyborg ninja that had just passed through Blackwatch while he was on bed rest. He wouldn’t be any good for any serious missions for a while. Jesse glanced up at Reyes’s retreating form, then wandered back into his room.

He studied the first one for a while, then decided he was getting nowhere staring at the words on the page, picking up the holster and some bullets for Peacekeeper (a gift from Reyes when he’d first joined) and headed down to the range. Something about the concentration of steadying his arm and his breath and his aim helped him think, cleared his head, and let him focus on the problem at hand.

Even after he left the range and settled into his bunk to clean and oil Peacekeeper, it was a mystery. This might be one he’d have to sleep on...


	3. Decrypted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The coded messages from around the world all point to one place... Japan, and the Shimada yakuza clan. Blackwatch wastes no time in mobilizing.

Jesse McCree woke with his face on the desk, a stabbing ache in his back, and the urgent memory of needing to tell Reyes what he’d found. His eyes flickered towards the clock. The digital numbers shone in an obnoxious crimson glow. 0626. Too early to be awake if he didn’t need to be, but… This was urgent. He groaned as he stood, then gathered up his notes in an armful of scraps of paper, running through the halls to Reyes’s quarters. The door opened a few seconds after Jesse knocked, and Gabriel Reyes straightened, expression going from curious to concerned as he saw the state of McCree.

“I take it you were able to figure something out? Come on in.” He turned, waving Jesse in after him, then wandered over to the tiny coffee maker on the desk, pulling it out and pouring two mugs. It was brewed recently enough that the room still smelled of it, but when Jesse took a sip it was lukewarm at best. How long had Reyes been up?

“Have you heard from the codebreakers?” Jesse said quietly, sorting through the papers where he’d dumped them on the table. Reyes’s room was larger than his, with a table and chairs and a kitchenette. The papers were quickly spread across the table, taking up nearly as much space as they had on his own desk. “Because I’m hopin’ I’m wrong.”

“No word back yet, officially. But Jenkins said they’re close to cracking about half of them, have a good number roughly transcribed.” Reyes settled back in his chair with an arm crossed over his chest, the other lifting the mug of lukewarm coffee to his lips. “So, what’d you come up with, whiz kid?”

“It’s some kind of weapon. Nothing concrete about what kind of weapon, they’re too vague about it, but there’s a lot of code about amounts of things, probably code for payments or offers, and it’s big. Bigger than anything that’s been out in the world for a long time. I…” Jesse paused, running a hand through his hair and took a deep breath, raising his gaze to Reyes. “I’m pretty sure it’s a bomb, sir.”

Reyes sighed, letting out a quiet string of curses half in Spanish and half in English, and nodded, as if he’d expected that. “I was afraid of that,” he said quietly, offering a faint smile towards Jesse. “See, this is why I snagged you from those idiot punks in the desert. Didn’t know what they lost.”

Jesse shook his head and stared in disbelief at Reyes. “How can you be so relaxed about this?”

“Because we don’t have all the facts yet. No sense in worrying about it, until we can do something about it, _comprende_? And I _am_ worried, but I’m not going to wind myself up about it until we have an objective we can point some solutions at. Keep at those messages, see if you can’t puzzle out a who, when, and where for us. And I promised you something if you figured it out. You get to take point on the mission when we have that information.”

Jesse was struck silent by that. He was still new, and still damn young compared to most of the members of Blackwatch. “I… That is… Thank you, Commander Reyes, sir!” Jesse stood up a little straighter, tried not to grin like a fool as he stared at the head of Blackwatch.

“You’re the one that earned it. You work your ass off, you deserve a mission. Once we know what we’re dealing with, we’ll be able to get a more solid plan in place.” Reyes met his gaze, his dark eyes earnest as he stared across the table at the agent. “Don’t get too excited, we still don’t have a place to point you, so the mission is a hypothetical at this point.”

“Of course, sir, I won’t let you down. I’ll… get back to working on decoding these then,” Jesse said, gathering up his notes. His eyes caught the one that he’d written in bold lettering in ballpoint pen ‘ **BOMB!!!!** ’ and his stomach did a flip. This was not exactly what he’d imagined when he thought of leading his own Blackwatch ops.

“Keep up the good work, _vaquero_.” Reyes smiled at him, perhaps more warmly than his position as commanding officer required. From the moment he’d adopted Jesse into the ranks of Blackwatch, he’d been as much a mentor as a boss, stern and harsh when Jesse needed it, but he knew just as often when something called for praise and encouragement. Jesse had gone from petulant teenage punk to competent member of Blackwatch pretty quickly under that, as much as he resented the way everyone seemed to think that Reyes was some kind of father figure or older brother, or something like that.

The door closed behind Jesse and he made a beeline for the training rooms. He had a couple reasons, spending some time working on his muscle tone, gently easing back into his usual workouts, trying to regain some of the muscle lost from his recovery, and a perhaps futile attempt to calm his thoughts from the revelation he’d found last night.

After a workout and a breakfast taken in one of the sparse ‘yards’ around the Blackwatch complex he set back to working on the ciphers. There was still a lot he was missing, but even as fuzzy as the picture was, it scared the shit out of him. And Reyes wanted to put him on point on this mission?

He didn’t think anything of it when Reyes asked about Genji later that day, where he’d gone, and if he was on a mission. Jesse responded to the text on his tablet distractedly as he scowled down at one of the ciphers.

* * *

 

Nothing happened for weeks at a time, and then suddenly it seemed like everything happened all at once. That was kind of the nature of things with Blackwatch. A lot of watching and waiting for the exact moment to strike, then taking the shot when it was right; waiting for all the pieces to line up and then pull the trigger. In a whirlwind, Jesse was being briefed on mission parameters and expectations, and he found himself with a folder nearly an inch thick about the Shimada-gumi, the infamous and world-renowned criminal syndicate in Japan.

“We leave in a week, Agent McCree. Be ready,” Reyes said in his commander voice, standing straight, hands behind his back, gaze intense as he stared across at the young agent. Jesse responded with as much muscle memory as conscious effort, standing at attention, or as close as he was capable, fingers clenched around the manilla folder and a sharp nod and a quiet ‘yessir’ his response to the words.

Curiosity as much as his duty drove him to immediately return to his barracks, flipping the folder open on his desk. Photos and news clippings seemed to be the vast majority of the information enclosed, but there was also a detailed profile of Genji Shimada, recent recruit, and another for a Hanzo Shimada. According to the profile, he was Genji’s brother, a couple years older, and recently the head of the Shimada-gumi.

According to all official records, Genji Shimada was dead, under mysterious circumstances. Jesse resisted the immediate need to message his new friend and ask why. He read instead.

The Shimada-gumi, infamous yakuza clan descended from a clan of ninja that dated back to before the Sengoku period, serving various other masters in their days until finally becoming a power unto themselves. Weapons, drugs, assassinations, nothing was too dirty for the Shimada clan.

The former head of the clan had recently passed away and left the clan to Hanzo Shimada, and shortly after that, whatever had happened to Genji. There was a very public funeral for him, and several photos of Hanzo Shimada looking grim and severe, surrounded by men in suits and obviously armed, if you knew what to look for.

Halfway through the profile on Genji, Jesse set it aside, picking up his tablet instead.

\--

From: jmccree@overwatch.org  
To: gshimada@overwatch.org

Hey so this might seem kind of out of nowhere, but I was just reading about the Shimadas and I was wondering if I could get some more information?

\--

From: gshimada@overwatch.org  
To: jmccree@overwatch.org

You are correct to say that this seems sudden. What prompted your curiosity? commander reyes also messaged me yesterday asking some questions about the shimada as well. Is it related?

\--

From: jmccree@overwatch.org  
To: gshimada@overwatch.org

Maybe. Probably. Most likely. Anyway, I guess we’re looking into them. Do you know of anything big that was happening with them?

\--

From: gshimada@overwatch.org  
To: jmccree@overwatch.org

Why do you not just ask reyes? He had similar questions. I tried not to be involved in the family business, that is part of why i am with overwatch now.

\--

From: jmccree@overwatch.org  
To: gshimada@overwatch.org

Is that why all the papers say you’re dead? Is it something to do with that Hanzo guy being head of the clan now?

\--

There was no reply for several minutes and Jesse quickly picked up his tablet again, beginning to type out a hasty apology for prying, when suddenly Genji’s reply appeared.

\--

From: gshimada@overwatch.org  
To: jmccree@overwatch.org

My brother has always been a creature of the clan as the eldest son. Honor, duty, and my father’s wishes were always the most important things to hanzo. My father always wished i were more like him, my father said as much. When my father died and my brother became the head of the clan, he also fielded the complaints about my lack of contribution to the shimada clan. He had less patience than my father and confronted me. It escalated. I was left for dead. Before all that and behind closed doors i heard talk of a weapon unlike any that we had ever handled. I do not know what it was. I wish i could help more but it was of no interest to me then. I was not involved in the business my family took part in.

\--

From: jmccree@overwatch.org  
To: gshimada@overwatch.org

Wait a second so Hanzo did that to you? Your own damn brother practically murdered you????? That’s fucked up man.

\--

From: gshimada@overwatch.org  
To: jmccree@overwatch.org

There is a reason i no longer wish to use the shimada name, mccree san. If you are pursuing the shimada i can only advise you to be careful and beg you to use caution. Shimada gumi is dangerous and will not hesitate to keep their secrets with blood. I am evidence enough of that. I trust that your commander knows what you are up to. But if there is anything i can assist with please ask. It is the least i can do for a friend. I would hate to lose it so soon after our bond was formed.

\--

Jesse let out a low whistle in the otherwise silent room. He set the tablet down and turned back towards the photo of Hanzo Shimada standing in the graveyard. It was far away but the image was sharp, dark eyes piercing and intense, fixed on the ground but with no apparent sadness or expression of emotion. He looked cold, calculating. It wasn’t that hard to believe he was capable of murder. The murder of his own brother, though? It was hard to believe anyone would be capable of that.

So this was the man that headed the most notorious yakuza organization in the underworld. Looked like a right asshole.

* * *

 

The next few days were hard study and brushing up on his Japanese, as well as trying to get back in fighting shape from the time in a hospital bed. He wouldn’t be quite where he was before for some time yet, but they weren’t entirely sure what to expect from Japan or the Shimada. Long story short, they were going to come as prospective business partners interested in the device that Shimada was selling.

“I’ll come with you, but you are taking point on this one. I’m there as backup in case things go south real fuckin’ fast,” Reyes said, tapping the folder. “You’re good but we don’t want to leave you with your ass in the wind. Too valuable for us to lose but we need someone with quick wits that can still fight on the inside. You get close to someone with the Shimada, and get as much intel as you can. If we can get a location on it, we go in and take care of the device. Disable it or destroy it. Maybe even make it so it’ll backfire on them. Whatever it takes to keep it out of the hands of someone worse, someone that’ll actually use it instead of just selling to the highest bidder.”

Jesse stared at his own copy of the folder, the final case files and all the information on Shimada and its key members. One of them would be his ticket in. He chewed his lip, then looked up at Reyes again. “This is a bigger mission than I’ve ever seen us take on at Blackwatch, ever. You… You sure you want me on point on this one?”

“Have more faith in yourself, _vaquero_.” Reyes used the nickname with the usual affection in his tone, but his expression was grave. That enough was unsettling. He was only this serious when shit was really hitting the fan. “You earned this, like I said. Can’t think of a man better suited to the job.”

“I thought I was an ingrate kid that didn’t know how good I got it?” Jesse retorted, hiding his nerves beneath humor.

Reyes scoffed, muttering under his breath, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What was that?”

“I said maybe I made a mistake putting all this in your hands after all, _cabron_.” Reyes grumbled and sat back, arms crossed over his chest, but obviously fighting a smile.

Jesse chuckled, pulling his hat down to hide his face and shrugged his shoulders. “Well if you’re going to be like that, now I just have to show you what I can do.”

“That’s the spirit. How’s your Japanese coming along?”

Jesse cringed. The vocabulary wasn’t too hard, but the grammar was making his head spin. “I’ll be able to get myself around and out of trouble, but… I’ll be stickin’ to English for any negotiations if I can… Why’d it have to be yakuza?”

Reyes chuckled in return. “Because nothing’s easy in this world. Keep at it. We’ve got a long flight in a couple days. Plenty of time to do some last minute studying.”

* * *

 

The two days until their flight seemed to fly by, Jesse’s time busy with learning the area around the known haunts of the Shimada men, squeezing in what last bits of Japanese he could, and planning his way in. There was a good amount of checking with Reyes on the finer details, and even with his own work to finish, he seemed to always make time for his role as mentor, which Jesse was grateful for. The flight was early, the sun barely peeking over the horizon as they boarded. They were going commercial under aliases, to keep the skies clear of any Overwatch or Blackwatch activity. No need in kicking the hornet’s nest before we get our foot in the door, Reyes had said. Jesse scowled out the window, watching the clouds skid across the sky painted in streaks of vibrant color as the sun began to rise. Now or never. He’d get some last studying in, then hopefully a nap, but his stomach was doing flips and his mind was abuzz. Probably that’d wear off a few hours into the flight. Maybe.

As he pulled his tablet out to silence it for the flight, he saw the message icon blinking and opened the application, two short sentences that were both heartwarming and somewhat concerning.

\--

From: gshimada@overwatch.org  
To: jmccree@overwatch.org

Jesse please be careful i was not joking around how dangerous the shimada are. Come back alive my friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super busy this weekend for my birthday so you all get the chapter a little early this week as a sort of reverse birthday gift.... But big things are coming in this fic and I hope you all are enjoying reading as much as I am writing it. <3<3<3


	4. Foreigner

When he stepped off the plane and made his way through customs, Jesse was still shaking off sleep, having finally succumbed to the droning roar of the engines and sheer exhaustion. They were just another set of agents if anyone looked at the records. It got them special clearance through the severe-faced customs officials, asking their questions in accented English.

“Is the purpose of your travel for business, or pleasure?” She was pretty, round face with dark skin and brown eyes, hair trimmed into a neat bob around her face.

“Well, hopefully a bit a both, ma’am.” She stared at him evenly as she slammed the stamp onto his papers, with the expression of someone that had heard that line more than a couple times. Jesse felt his smile falter, and he would have looked away sheepishly but her gaze was like iron.

“Enjoy your time in Hanamura, Sir,” she said with a stoic expression and the faintest accent as she handed his papers back. Jesse let out a low whistle, offering a dip of the head and a badly-accented apology in Japanese. She glanced at him as he strode past, almost smiling, then went back to the next traveler. He pulled out his datapad, tapping through documents to his reservations. There were maps of the city, and he'd learned enough Japanese in the past few weeks he'd be able to get round well enough to find his way to rendezvous.

Even forewarned for the culture shock, Jesse felt odd under all the stares. He towered over most of the people here, and despite his clothing being more or less the same as theirs save for his hat (bags and luggage notwithstanding) in jeans and a comfortable shirt, a jacket against the pleasant breeze that sometimes tended towards chilly. He was used to blending in, being just another face in the crowd. It was quickly becoming apparent that would be impossible here. He pulled the brim of his hat low over his face.

A glance at his watch as he approached rendezvous point said he was a few minutes early, but Reyes had that uncanny talent of being everywhere fifteen minutes early, and making you feel guilty for showing up on time, so he hurried in, pausing at the entrance to glance around. There, at the hotel bar. He moved over to the front desk, checked in, got his key, and lugged his things up to his hotel room. When he flopped onto the barstool beside Reyes, his watch told him he was four minutes late. Reyes wasted no time in reminding him.

“Late. Get lost, _vaquero_?”

“Oh ya know, had to fight off flocks of girls… Don’t’cha know, they’d just love to get their hands on a piece of this fine American ass.”

Reyes arched an eyebrow at him, mouth not even twitching into a smile, but his eyes showed his amusement. “Mhmm. Let’s get the attention off that American ass and focus on business.” Reyes always had a skill for redirecting away from Jesse’s tangents. It was simultaneously admirable and annoying. Jesse waved over the bartender and ordered a whiskey, much to Reyes’s chagrin from the look the commander shot him.

“Can’t be at a bar and not drink somethin’. We’re tryin’ to blend in, right?” Jesse said in a low voice with a grin, swirling the drink in the glass. Besides, Blackwatch was footing the bill on this little trip. He might as well take a few simple pleasures.

Reyes had a drink too, but he hadn’t touched it since Jesse had sat down. “Keep your wits about you, _vaquero_.” An easy pseudonym, one that came easier to the Commander than his aliases. Too used to shouting Jesse's name in annoyance when he got into trouble, Reyes liked to quip.

“You know me. Wits for days. Anyway, what's our in with this one?” He glanced up as the whiskey was set in front of him and then watched the bartender drift off again to an older man at the bar.

“You've got business with them, Mister West.” John West, the alias Jesse had for this one. Clearly someone in Blackwatch mission ops thought they were clever. He'd said as much when Reyes had handed him his papers.

“The guns kind or the drugs kind?” Jesse asked, voice pitched low enough not to be overheard, but loud enough not to sound suspicious.

“Guns this time. Figure it'll be easier to fake since I don't know about you, but I haven't taken many advanced chemistry classes. Wouldn't know the first thing about any kinda drugs they might have or be dealing in.”

Jesse nodded and swirled the whiskey in his glass. “Thanks for thinkin’ of my poor brain.”

“We've got a better chance if we play to your strength, not trying to challenge you with that shit in another language.”

Jesse took a thoughtful sip. “So who’s my contact with the Shimada?”

Reyes looked towards the bartender and cast a surreptitious look around the bar before pitching his voice low. “They're still playing hard to get, not giving us any names or specifics. Our people have been negotiating on our behalf, trying to smokescreen until our aliases were set up. Now they have your name, we're hoping they provide something.”

“Want me to hit the streets, try to get some information and put out the tip that we're here and ready to deal?” Jesse could see Reyes scowl for just a moment before he subdued it. Concern for him, or just Reyes being Reyes?

“Well, we let them know you'd be in town and I've had some agents on the ground for a while here, so it wouldn't be out of the ordinary to poke around a bit. Don't poke too hard, I hear the Shimada poke back, and it's usually with swords.”

“Thought they dealt in guns?”

“Oh, plenty of them too.”

Jesse chuckled despite the grim topic of his potential death, but there was a faint glint of a smile in Reyes’s eyes when he shot a look at Jesse. “Got it. Well, Mister Garcia, I'm gonna get some shut-eye and then it's off to work.” Jesse drank the rest of his whiskey in one long gulp and tipped his hat at Reyes, who pinched the bridge of his nose.

His voice was low but the grumbling tone was loud and clear, a heavy hand settling on Jesse's shoulder for a moment. “ _Vaquero_ , you better get rid of that fool hat before you try to do _anything_ covert.”

Jesse shrugged and grinned unapologetically, twisting out from under his commander's hand as he strode backwards from the bar. “I think it adds to my rustic charm. _Jaa mata ne_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the short chapter y'all but thank you for sticking with me and supporting me through the big hiatus. I'm happy to say that while right now it's kind of in fits and starts (thus, short chapter for which I hope you all forgive me) I'm finally writing again. And next chapter... at long fucking last.... we get some McCree and Hanzo interactions probably if the pacing goes as I expect it to!


	5. Undercover

Tracking down the Shimada wasn't hard; they weren't exactly subtle here. But why should they be? They owned Hanamura like Deadlock had owned the canyon. The police were all either corrupt or had just learned to look the other way. Men with slick suits and a certain way of talking that Jesse had picked out quickly. Well, and the omnics with the oni motif were a little flashy.

 _And Reyes was concerned about m’damn hat… look at these clowns._ Jesse put a coin into the pachinko slot, playing just enough not to get noticed, but not so much he didn't get all the juicy gossip. He drifted away to the front desk, and put down his tray of coins, exchanging them back to yen. He'd been lucky at least, and walked out with a profit that from his rough tallies of the conversion rate was about fifty bucks. Not bad, all things considered.

According to what he'd heard from idle talk and from Reyes’s intel, they were on the right track. Shimada usually left the town quiet and didn't have much of a presence, but something had stirred them up.

Over the next few days, he made connection with a contact Reyes had provided, a secretary of sorts from the sounds of it, and they had a dinner planned to discuss their mutual interests. Jesse had been with Deadlock long enough to know the rough approximation of what the negotiations would look like. Didn't make it any less nerve wracking. Akira was the guy’s name (“Just Akira,” he’d said on the phone, not providing a surname) and he looked businesslike, bookish even with the thin half-circle glasses that perched on his face. Jesse had nearly a foot on him in height and he didn't look armed. The large bulky men that accompanied him, on the other hand… Jesse put on his most winning smile, and despite the impassive looks they flashed him, there was a faint relaxation in their shoulders. He'd been muscle long enough to know their reasoning; anyone that isn't afraid to make eye contact with the muscle wasn't looking for any trouble.

As they sat down, Akira pulled open the book that looked more like a day-planner than anything else, the tidy symbols in neat rows looking almost like print until Jesse took a longer look. It was entirely incomprehensible to him; he’d had enough time to get barely fluent, but the written language, beside some important things like symbols for landmarks and streets he’d need to know were still beyond him. Akira didn’t seem to mind him looking, apparently assuming that he wasn’t able to read it despite his craning look across the table.

The man spoke English in a curt, formal way, even colder and more clinical than Doctor Ziegler. Jesse found himself sitting a little straighter despite himself as the man spoke, introducing himself as a secretary of the Shimada-Gumi and a keeper of their affairs.

“Mister West,” he said, after the extensive introduction, meeting Jesse’s eyes briefly. “I am told by my contacts with your organization that you are seeking information on our latest goods.”

“Yessir, got word of a possible big deal goin’ down. And I’d be interested in a more… permanent arrangement with your company. I think my organization has a lot to offer. As I understand it, acquisitions for you folks here is a little difficult sometimes. We move product your group deals in.”

“Hm… I take it based on your… Appearance you are not in the business of pharmaceutical compositions.”

“Never did have much of a head for Chemistry myself. No… Our products are a bit bigger, and a bit louder.” He smirked, and was gratified to see a similar twitch of amusement on the man’s face.

“Very well. As for an ongoing partnership, I will need to bring that before Mister Shimada. He will want to have a look at anything relating to business partnerships before I am able to agree to anything. As for the other matter…” He slid a white envelope across the table. “There is a card within, it has a number for your organization’s identifier. Put down your group’s offer, and it will be included amongst the others. It is being conducted as a silent auction, to avoid the potential attention any clashes would indicate. We will notify the highest bidders once the auction has completed, in case any additional offers are to be made in addition to your original bid.”

“Where do I turn it in?”

“Keep a hold of it for a few days. Once Mister Shimada has had a chance to review your offer, we will be in touch. You are staying at the Dai-Ichi with another member of your organization, are you not?”

Jesse didn’t let that shake him. They’d apparently been watching him and Reyes, just like the Commander had suggested. “Yessir.”

“I am curious why two members of your group came to Hanamura, but only you come to meetings?”

“He’s not much of a people-person. I came alone as a show of trust. Didn’t want to alarm your boys too much,” Jesse deflected with a smile, and shrugged a shoulder. He went quiet as the curtain to the small room opened and a woman came through with tea and the tasty staple of miso soup he’d grown pretty fond of already. The pot and bowls clacked on the table in the unsettlingly silent room, and the young woman seemed quite aware of it, bowing and excusing herself after asking if there was anything else they needed. Akira waved her off then poured himself and Jesse a cup of tea.

“I see. Very well, I should appreciate if you continue to show such trust. It would go far in our business relations, yes?”

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear that. Doesn’t much like getting involved.” Jesse smiled again and sipped his tea, ignoring the muttering growl from Reyes ( _Garcia while we’re here, Mister West,_ he reminded himself) in his earbud. Reyes had refused to let him go in without at least that. One of the advantages of being involved in one of the most secret advanced organizations in the world when it came to intelligence, their earbuds were years ahead of what these guys would probably have.

Dinner continued and there was little more talk of business, save for an exchange of who Jesse was and Akira sharing a bit of his history with the Shimada. All things considered, they didn’t seem all that bad, compared to some of the gangs Blackwatch had taken down in the time since Jesse’d joined up. Jesse wasn’t terribly loath for conversation to become sparing as he got his meal, some tasty fried pork thing with a tangy sauce that reminded him of barbeque, with rice on the side, because everything here had rice. Not that he was complaining, it was all fucking delicious.

As the meal wrapped up, Akira put his empty cup down, and moved to stand, waving for Jesse to stay put. “Please, do not hurry on my account. I am glad you are enjoying your time in Hanamura, Mister West. I will be in touch to discuss our business further. We will arrange for another meeting, and you may turn in your organization’s bid at that time. _Osaki ni shitsurei shimasu_ , good evening.”

Jesse blinked at the phrase, still working out its meaning, before he realized he hadn’t bid the other man good evening and quickly did so before Akira left. “Look forward to hearin’ from you all, Mister Akira.”

After the yakuza left, he didn’t linger over his meal, just finishing what was on his plate and his tea before he too found his way back out to the street and caught a taxi back to the hotel, mind whirling and the envelope clutched in his hand. He was definitely starting to feel out of his depths here, no matter how many times over the past week he’d heard Reyes encourage him in his own way. Always gruff and stiff, to an outsider from their close interactions, probably even could be implied as insulting at times, but it was just the way Gabriel Reyes was.

True to his word, Akira called not three days later, the conversation short and to the point. Mister Shimada had agreed to meet with him in regards to a future business relationship, and even should they not place the winning bid on the current product offered, that would not be a strike against them. After all, many were in the game this time. A stable business relationship would be far more profitable for them both in the long run.

As he hung up the phone and set it on the side table, Reyes looked up from the table, where he was skimming reconnaissance reports on the Shimada castle that perched atop the hill, looming over the rest of the town like the dragon that was the family’s preferred symbol. The crest was all over, the fame of the family enough to bring a bit of tourism on its own, though it was more relating to the stories of ancient ninja from the samurai days that was catered towards the public than its current less glamorous face.

“I know you can do this, but how do _you_ feel about it?”

Jesse took a deep breath, put on a grin, and shrugged nonchalantly. “Was born to do this sorta thing. I’m ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Just wanted to make sure,” Reyes said, then turned back to the plans on the table. “I’ve got backup routes planned in case they take you into the castle and shit goes south on you. C’mere, I want to go over your exit points.”

Jesse took a deep breath, and looked down at the plans as he sat across from his mentor and commander, his stomach doing a flip as his mind caught up once more with what he was about to do. They had given him a time and let him know to be at his hotel, which meant more likely than not, he’d be getting a nice black sedan with tinted windows and a driver up to the castle. He’d really be in the belly of the beast this time. A real, honest to god castle… Even if it wasn’t one made of big stone turrets and harsh architecture like the castles of Europe, this thing had stood for centuries, and if there was one thing he’d learned about war-era buildings, they were not built to be easy to get in or out of. Even with Reyes’s plans for escape if things went wrong, he didn’t feel too good about his chances of leaving if the Shimada-gumi decided they didn’t want to let him go anywhere.

* * *

 

Adjusting his tie for the tenth time that night and running a hand over his hair, Jesse looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, at his clean-shaven cheeks, wondering idly what he might look like with a beard (he’d had some scruff when Deadlock had picked him up, and now he had started to shave around the small neatly trimmed bit on his chin, but he’d never really had a beard…) to distract himself from the pressing weight of what was about to happen tonight. He was going to meet Hanzo Shimada, head of the most notorious Yakuza clan in Japan, and a man capable of fratricide… Cold, emotionless Hanzo Shimada. His stomach felt like it was going to drop right out of him and down the ten stories to the lobby as he heard his phone ring on the bedside table. Not his cell phone, but the front desk.

“Excuse me, Sir. A man at the front desk is stating that there is a car waiting for you. Should I let him know you are coming down?”

“Yeah, tell ‘im I’m on my way,” he said, and dropped the phone into its cradle again, glancing across the room at Reyes, who nodded.

“You got this, _vaquero_. Don’t let your nerves psych you out. I know you can do this.” Then one of Reyes’s rare genuine smiles, arms crossing over his chest as he sat back in the chair, then tapped on the cellphone. “Just shoot me a text if you need an out. You know the code word.”

“Alamo, yeah. I’ll be fine. Just gotta keep my cool.” Jesse grinned with more confidence than he felt, slicked his hair back one more time, then strode out of the room, foot tapping nervously in the elevator as the numbers ticked steadily downward, until the bright L was displayed.

 _Now or never, McCree._ Jesse put on that same confident smile and a swagger in his step as he made his way across the lobby, offering a hand to the man in the suit that met him, the lines of his blazer just slightly off where Jesse picked out a gun below the left half of his jacket. Right… He put his hand down when the man bowed instead, and gestured for him to follow. Jesse just followed the man’s lead, at a loss for what else to do as he slid into the back seat of the car, then the man moved and sat down in the front seat, where a window separated him from them, leaving him all too alone in the backseat of the car. Akira wasn’t here this time.

The ride through Hanamura to the gates of the Shimada castle were the longest twenty minutes Jesse’d ever experienced, and most of that time was only because of the apparently constant traffic in the city. He got plenty of good looks at the neon signs in kanji and kana (the latter of which he was actually picking up pretty well now) on the way, including a ramen shop that Genji had mentioned he ought to visit if he had a chance. Jesse smiled at the reminder of his friend, which was short-lived, given the fact that he was about to go meet Genji’s murderous brother. He sat back, realizing this meant they must be close to the castle, and tried not to gawk as they pulled up to a set of gates that were pushed open by men in suits and closed as they drove through, the castle sprawled out before them. The buildings were all in perfect condition, at least from the outside, the sloped graceful lines of the rooftops and decor taking his breath away.

Even the night sky was slightly more visible here than in the depths of the city, the sprawling grounds not producing much light pollution of its own, making the stars just a bit brighter here. As he stepped out of the car, a group of men standing at a doorway caught his eye, and even dressed similarly in a sharp suit of his own, Hanzo Shimada was unmistakeable from the other men.

Cold, stoic, and in a very cruel twist of fate, the most gorgeous man Jesse McCree had ever laid eyes on.  That grainy newspaper photo had not done him justice, he decided as he followed the men up the walk, the gravel path crunching beneath his feet.

“ _Douzo yoroshiku onegaishimasu,_ Shimada-san,” Jesse said as they came to a stop, bowing as formally as he could manage. He straightened to arched brows on fine, aristocratic features.

“You speak Japanese?”

“Only a bit.”

“Hm… Disappointing. Very well, I shall speak English to ensure there are no misunderstandings.” He turned, striding back up the steps and into the open doorway, pausing just inside, but Jesse couldn’t see past the guards to see what he was doing. “Bring him along.” Well, the snappish tone was certainly whittling away at Jesse’s immediate starstruck reaction, which he was glad for. He couldn’t afford to be thinking with his southern head on this one. Needed to keep his wits about him, no matter how gorgeous his best friend’s murderer was. Which was the major tarnish on his shine to the elder Shimada, really. Damn… Why’d the pretty ones always have to be such dicks?  
He kicked off his shoes and traded them out for soft sandals as directed as he followed the heavily armed and muscled procession, led by the straight-backed Shimada. He was really in the belly of the beast now. And it was go time.


	6. Facing the Dragon

They’d switched to English after Hanzo had become impatient at Jesse’s fumbling attempts to speak Japanese in protest. Jesse was good with languages, sure, but in his defense, he’d only really become vaguely fluent in the past few days and that was mostly in the day to day getting from point A to B. He’d picked up a few phrases from when Deadlock worked with the Shimada-gumi on weapons deals, but it was at best phrases and words. Nowhere near what he’d need for a business deal, much less covert operations. Hanzo’s accent was sharp and clean, like everything about him. Pressed suit, slicked back hair, carefully groomed and bound at the base of his neck, though there were a few strands around his face that escaped. A symbol made recurring appearances here and there on his clothing, which Jesse only knew as the Shimada clan symbol due to studying the packet of mission information at length. 

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as they walked through the hallways, realizing as they got deeper and deeper into the complex how very alone he was in here. There were cameras in nearly every corner, so his face would be in their records, and that made his skin crawl. Not that his mugshot hadn’t been scattered here and there about the southwest anyway. Blackwatch had erased most of that, so that his cover would never be blown by an inopportune snooper. But it didn’t offer him much comfort here, in the depths of the labyrinthine castle. 

“Pretty place ya got here, Mister Shimada.”

That didn’t warrant a response, though there was a slight twitch of his head in Jesse’s direction. Staring at the back of his head, Jesse could only think of two things: Genji, with the beeping monitors at his bedside for weeks as he recovered from what this monster had done to him, and also how soft that fall of hair looked where it fell down the pressed fabric of Hanzo’s suit. 

“And Hanamura, it’s damn beautiful. Gotta say, I ain’t never been to Japan before. The food alone would be worth the trip,” Jesse chattered, ignoring the quiet growl of warning from his inner Reyes voice. They hadn’t chanced earpieces here, too many scanners and technology that would pick it out or pick up the transmission and blow his cover before he even got started. His gaze shifted out a window as they passed it, and he paused, letting out a low whistle. The lights of Hanamura spread below them, the mountain in the distance silhouetted behind the moon. It was a goddamn painting. “And the view,” he said with a low wonder.

“Do you ever stop talking?” Hanzo said, finally pausing to turn, arms crossing over his chest and his scowl quite formidable. Jesse didn’t let himself be distracted by the way the suit looked tight around what could only be significant musculature below the layers of fabric.

_ Still thinking with the wrong head, McCree. _ Not that he’d actually act on it, but he couldn’t be blamed for window shopping right?

“Sorry Mister Shimada, I just can’t help myself from expressin’ appreciation for all the finer things your country has ta offer.” He winked, offering a crooked grin that might have been almost flirtatious.

A perfectly shaped brow arched across Hanzo’s forehead, and then he turned again. “It’s not much further now.”

A young woman opened a sliding door as they approached. The room they stepped in had another matching set of doors on the other side that were open to a garden, the sound of water burbling somehow the only noise. There was nothing of traffic or the city from here. Like a magical castle, a dimension away from the plebeian life that the rest of them lived. Jesse couldn’t help but ogle, the tatami floors and small table, the silk calligraphy on the wall, and the garden outside with a pond and lanterns that cast warm yellow light on a stone path that was scattered with pink blossoms. It was just like he’d said in the hall; a goddamn painting, particularly once Hanzo settled onto his knees before the table, where a tray sat with steaming tea and two cups.

“So, Mister West. Let us discuss your business here in Hanamura.”

The young woman that had opened the door poured the tea into the two separate cups, and slid them across the table in front of the Shimada and to the empty space across from him where Jesse was settling to the floor, not quite ready to attempt the uncomfortable looking pose that the Shimada was in now, and he’d seen Genji take many a time.

Jesse sipped the tea carefully, making sure not to slurp, and waited for Hanzo to initiate the conversation.

“There are many foreigners that would be interested in making a tie with the Shimada and what we all have stock in. You know what we do, so I will not waste time advising of the benefits of an alliance. Tell me what you bring to the table.”

Here it was. The moment he’d been preparing for since he’d first gotten his foot in the door. He set a manila folder on the table, pulled from his briefcase, and slid it with his fingertips across the table. “I think the numbers will speak for themselves, Mister Shimada.”

Hanzo flipped the folder open and paged through the documents within, doctored numbers, a fake organization that Blackwatch techs had cooked up in record time. If Hanzo looked into it, it would all be there. Paper trails, tax returns, bank accounts. The works. The techs had assured him that they would stand up to anything the Shimada could throw at them.

Not entirely realizing he had been holding his breath, Jesse took a long inhale through his nose, then was careful to exhale slowly, watching Hanzo’s expression. He was no dumb face of the organization, he knew what those numbers and charts were. Jesse had a basic understanding of it all, but by no means would he be able to provide anything in-depth. He was playing the role of the face of the company, not the accountant or whatever job it was to keep track of all that.

Hanzo lifted his cup as he closed the folder, and took a long sip, letting Jesse squirm no doubt.

“Very well, I will have these numbers double-checked, but it all appears to be in order.”

“Alright then!” Jesse chimed with his most winning grin, and sipped his own tea, lifting it slightly in a not-quite-toast. “I do got one question for ya, Mister Shimada. My bosses’re curious too. Couldn’t quite puzzle out from the invitation on the auction. We were hopin’ to get us a copy of the specs of the…”

“The device that is for sale? You will see them if you win. If not, then I suppose you will need to wait in suspense indefinitely.” 

Jesse squinted at the Yakuza leader, then hid it with a sip. Snarky little shit, wasn’t he?

But apparently it was enough, whatever he’d seen in those papers. “We will meet again in a neutral location. I see that you are not entirely comfortable here, and I find that business deals do not go as well when one party is nervous. I shall have a car sent and we will meet for dinner. It is… Tuesday? Friday would be good for you, yes?”

Jesse blinked and sat up straighter, not expecting the consideration, and more than a little surprised at Hanzo’s being able to read him so easily. He’d have to be more careful about that… “I… Yeah, Friday’s great. It’s a date.” He flashed his 'charming' smile again, and was rewarded by a slight twitch of the Shimada’s lips.

“We shall see.” Jesse wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the not-a-denial, so he just sipped his tea instead. 

The rest of the meeting was small talk, which was surprisingly pleasant, mostly Jesse crowing about all the food he’d eaten since getting here and a short anecdote about his struggles with the language, which actually prompted something that looked suspiciously like a smile from the stoic man across the table from him. He was tense until he left the grounds anyway, but despite his best efforts, was actually looking forward to Friday.

* * *

 

So it was that three nights later, they met for the second time at a posh looking restaurant. Jesse had spent an hour making sure he was presentable, tying and re-tying his tie at least five times. He’d gotten the call from the front desk, just as last time, and he went down to the car after telling Gabe he was on his way and to be ready to pick him up in an hour or two. As much as Jesse hated dolling up like this, the cloak and dagger shit was admittedly the most fun he’d had in a very long time.

The front of the restaurant declared a traditional setting, and a sign as they entered declared it the oldest standing building and business on their block. Hanzo had arranged a quiet private room in the back of the place, looking over a garden. It hearkened back to the tea room where Hanzo had first met with him. 

Talk wound through business dealings, which Jesse had on lockdown, but he’d had a couple beers by the time they had received their main course, and the words that came out of his mouth next were too late to stop.

“Must’ve been hard to lose your brother like that.” Jesse McCree managed to sound offhanded, though his eyes flicked towards Hanzo’s face. “Probably worse for ya, ‘specially since rumor is you did it yourself.” He sipped his beer slowly, preferring even the strangeness of the taste to sake. The latter was too strong and he needed his wits about him, needed to be the good little Blackwatch agent.

The relaxed atmosphere chilled immediately, dark eyes fixing on him. There was something else in the Japanese man’s face that hadn't been there a moment ago, something Jesse couldn't quite place. Regret maybe? Hanzo Shimada spoke in a cold, harsh tone, Japanese, but a phrase Jesse could recognize. “Excuse me?” A phrase he had heard often working this mission, from convenience stores to cold-blooded yakuza like the Shimada-gumi, always with a lilt of politeness. Now it was frigid, Hanzo’s particular manner of speech putting an edge on the words that reminded him of those nasty little daggers the yakuza always carried, the proper name suddenly escaping him. “Where did you hear such a thing?”

He shrugged a shoulder carelessly and looked away. Fuck, he'd fucked up somehow. Reyes would have his hide. “Oh, y’know, people talk. Said somethin’ happened and might be you were involved.”

He had been looking away ( _ Stupid _ , Reyes chided in his mind) and hadn't seen or even heard the blade leave its sheath before a knife was to his neck. When he finally met eyes with the yakuza, the dark eyes were hard with some emotion Jesse couldn't read. “Who are you?”

“Told ya, Shimada-san. I'm just a pawn in the grand scheme. Nothin’ up my sleeves, nothin’ to hide.” The closest thing to true he would admit. There was plenty to hide, but Jesse had no illusions about his place in Overwatch, or Blackwatch as a whole. Reyes might treat them all as indispensable, but he had seen it in Deadlock and again in Overwatch. The little guy gets fucked, even if your boss was on your side, cause usually he was a cog himself. It wasn’t Gabriel Reyes’ face that was plastered all over them big shiny Overwatch posters, after all.

“My men do not  _ talk _ of these matters the way you so glibly imply, so you are either a spy trying to get information or you are someone that has simply stumbled across something far larger than yourself. Either way, you will tell me how you came of this, and then I will decide what to do with your sorry American hide.” In that moment he saw the man that had cut up a fast friend of his. And his careless blathering was about to get him in a similar spot. This was the Hanzo Shimada that everyone feared. The Hanzo Shimada that he was to get information from. The task was suddenly much more intimidating than he’d initially thought.

_ “Now hold up a minute,” McCree had said as Reyes briefed him on the plane ride across the ocean. “We're going to Japan, to work with the most notorious yakuza clan, on a  _ hunch _?” Granted, Reyes’s hunches were usually right, and they’d had quite a bit of information backing this one up, but still… He was the one that was supposed to go in and it was his ass hanging in the wind if this all went sideways. _

_ “You never listen,” Reyes growled, voice turning gravelly when he got annoyed at the young sharpshooter he'd plucked from the desert. He leveled his gaze on Jesse, and it seemed to always have the effect of making him freeze in place with an intense need to say ‘yessir’ and ‘nossir’ and lose that ever-present bit of sarcasm that had gotten him this far in life. That was part of what had made him say yes when the offer had been set out. Well, that, and the fact that he had been seventeen, and not ready to throw his life away when there was a chance at something better than four concrete walls and an orange jumpsuit. Gabriel Reyes was a tough son of a bitch and he was an unforgiving bastard as a commander, but he took care of his men, he had their back when it mattered most. “It’s not a hunch when every piece of information we’ve gathered points to Japan, and the Shimada. Hell, you saw yourself, McCree. Intel says there’s a weapon, bigger than anything you’ve dealt with before, you figured that out yourself with the codes. This isn’t any of that Deadlock petty shit. Need me to put it together for you,  _ cabron _?” _

He may have been good at puzzles, but he never was as quick as Gabriel Reyes at putting the pieces together. He regretted that immensely now, with the blade biting into his throat. “Tell me,” Hanzo demanded, pushing just enough that Jesse felt it press into skin, a hair from slicing. Damn, they kept their blades sharp out here…That tiny spiteful bit of him that had spurred him into saying something on Genji’s behalf was silent now.

“Look, might be I looked into you a bit before I came and put some pieces together. I’d be an idiot not to, a guy like yerself with an organization like this, if I was tryin’ to make a business deal,” he said, careful not to move his throat too much, but he still felt the blade bite into skin, the cool trickle of blood down his neck. Damn, he’d just bought this shirt… It withdrew, and Hanzo stared at him distrustfully, wiping the blade on a linen napkin with no care for its worth. Jesse couldn’t help but stare at the stain of his blood seeping into the fabric. And he’d made some progress with the guy, getting him to open up, even just a little. So much for that. All because he felt like he needed to poke the tiger, get a little bit of petty satisfaction. The voice in the back of his mind that sounded suspiciously like Reyes grumbled.  _ Never did learn to keep your mouth shut. _

“Have a care what gossip you heed,  _ gaijin _ . I think we are done for the night,” the head of the Shimada clan said coolly, standing, and leaving the room. He didn’t turn his back on Jesse once. Smart man, even though he knew full well Jesse was unarmed. Their dinner sat half-finished, the blood-stained napkin tossed over Hanzo’s tray. Jesse watched the brown broth of the soup seep into it where a corner dangled into the bowl.  _ Miso, _ his mind supplied unhelpfully. His heart was pounding, his head suddenly light as he realized how close he’d come to getting himself killed and fucking the mission. 

Reyes would have his hide, for sure. He bowed in the way he’d learned since arriving here as he left the restaurant, thanking the staff in stilted Japanese. They seemed to appreciate it, but there were other things on their minds, their eyes showing just a little too much white to really mean those smiles they wore. They were terrified, just as terrified as Jesse as he got into the car and sank into the seat, feeling all the strength leave him.

“Well?” Gabriel said from the front seat, wearing the hat low over his face to hide his features, but Jesse knew that voice, and resisted the immediate reflex to groan and curse his luck.

“He knows more than he’s tellin’. Don’t know how much more, but I think I can get it out of him.” Jesse tugged at his collar, but he knew that would only bring more attention to the cut.

“What’s that from?” Ah of course, he would have noticed when Jesse got into the car. Bastard never missed anything. There was a reason he was in charge of Blackwatch. And it was damn annoying.

“Cultural misunderstandin’,” Jesse grumbled, wishing for the wide brim of his hat. It was back in the hotel room. He hadn’t worn it once since that night in the bar. Even with his complaints, Reyes was right. Stood out too much. But his mannerisms and speech had given him away when they’d switched to English at the beginning of the first meeting.  _ Cowboy _ , he’d called Jesse. The way he said it made it sound exotic, and Jesse’d be lying if he said he hadn’t felt a certain draw to the Shimada leader, but the knowledge of the brutality he was capable of… 

Remembering the scars on Genji’s face, what little was left of his human body after Angela had saved him. He hadn’t been there for that part. He’d been sitting in a cold room waiting to be shipped off for the rest of his life for the thrills he’d had with the Deadlock gang. He’d been training to be Blackwatch, getting cuffed up the back of the head by Reyes and learning a little bit of honor. 

“Cultural misunderstanding?” Gabe sounded skeptical, his intonation rising slightly and Jesse didn’t have to see it to know he was smirking through that neatly cropped goatee. But to his credit, Reyes didn’t push, and Jesse stared out the tinted windows as they drove back to the hotel.

“Don't like Americans much. Nothing I can't get past, sir.” Jesse put a little more cocksure confidence in his tone than he really felt. Reyes let out a grunt that didn't make it clear if he bought Jesse’s excuse or if he saw through it. Probably the latter, the guy was scary good at reading people, and Jesse most of all. He said once it was because McCree reminded him of himself as a kid. He'd just laughed when Jesse bristled at being called kid.

“You got a meeting with him, more than most of my guys have managed with anyone there. You did good,  _ vaquero _ . Just don't blow it. Remember what I said about the poking, and swords.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited to fix some things I missed reading over it, sorry guys!!! Just minor fixes and tweaks, so you're not missing anything if you read it before.


	7. Building Bridge

Jesse had requested the debrief in Reyes’s room this time in case things got too hairy, so he'd be able to scamper off back to his room. The cowardly route, maybe, but Reyes wasn't going to be happy with what he had to tell him about maybe blowing their chances with all this. It went about as well as Jesse expected.

“You said _what_ to him?” That low growl was in Reyes’s voice, and his dark eyes were fixed unblinkingly on Jesse, pinning him in place. Just like the first time they'd met in that tiny room with Jesse handcuffed to a table. He wouldn't hurt Jesse but the proverbial tanning of the hide could come in a myriad of creative methods. And probably not until they got home, so as not to jeopardize the mission of course. Jesse expected at least a week of strenuous physical activity and probably bathroom cleaning duty.

“I may’ve been feeling the beer a little an’ Gen’s my friend… It just kinda slipped out.” To his credit, Jesse didn't flinch, arms folded in front of him and eyes on the carpet between Reyes’s boots. “Nothin’ I can't recover from, sir.”

“You better be right, McCree.” Jesse glanced up towards the commander's face. He barely ever used Jesse's last name, and there was genuine anger in Reyes’s eyes. “Because we've been working for years to get some kind of foot in the door with the Shimada. This isn't just the last few weeks or months with those codes.”

“Yessir.” Best not to expand on it, just let it fizzle out for now. He could talk his wit and charm up all he'd like, but it had long since stopped working on Reyes. The silence stretched long enough that Jesse glanced up, Reyes with his arms crossed and scowling impressively at him.

“Glad we understand each other. You're dismissed. Go get some rest, _cabron_.”

“Yessir,” Jesse said again, pausing at the door on his way out. “I can get in, I swear it. I'll have the device information before you know it.”

“You damn well better, if you want to make up for this,” Reyes growled, leveling an index finger in Jesse's direction. Jesse flashed his charming grin and let the door close behind him. He fumbled with the key card on his door at first, then let out a whoosh of breath as he slumped against it.

Next steps, then. How to get to the device, or find out what and where they were keeping it…

Jesse stared out over the skyline of Hanamura, gaze tugged towards the silhouette of the castle, perched atop the mountain, teeth worrying his lip.

So how did he get the dragon to give up his treasure?

* * *

Much to his surprise, it was the Shimada that reached out to him first, in the form of a phone call three days later.

Jesse picked up the chirping phone, and glanced at the name on the screen in shock before answering in broken Japanese.

“No need for such formality, West-san. My employer has expressed interest in another meeting. Your company's offer on the device as well as the outcome of the last meeting have been enough to make us intrigued for further discussion.”

“Really?” Jesse paused, wiping the incredulity from his voice. _Professionalism McCree._ “Of course we're thrilled, when does he want to meet?”

“If you are free this evening, he has offered to meet at the location of your last meeting, and he asked me to tell you that he promises to stay for the final course this time…” There was a faint hint of confusion in Akira’s voice, but Jesse immediately agreed. “He will be pleased to hear it.” The details were given in a curt, no nonsense tone and when he got off the phone, Jesse grinned. Damn right.

He told Reyes the news, and spent the afternoon preening, trimming his goatee and picking out the perfect outfit. Not that this was a date… Right?

This time he was first to the restaurant, opting for tea this time instead of beer, partially out of self restraint but also because he had a suspicion Reyes would know somehow and there were many things the man could do to make his life hell before they left Japan.

Hanzo paused in the doorway, and Jesse cambered to his feet, bowing slightly.

“Shimada-san. I owe ya an apology fer last time.”

Hanzo glanced down, bowing his own head. “No, it is I that must apologize.” His dark eyes flicked to Jesse's neck, a hand moving to his own to gesture at where the mark was on Jesse. “I acted rashly. I know better, but… my brothers fate is still an open wound and I often let emotion rule me despite my best efforts.”

Interesting. He didn't deny it, but he didn't confirm it either. Jesse nodded and flashed a smile. “Then forgiveness all around?”

Hanzo nodded, then seated himself. “I came to conclude our business discussions from the other night. You have asked to see the specifications of the device, which I cannot provide, but I wanted to offer more details.”

Jesse sat up a bit straighter at that, leveling his gaze on the Shimada.

“In an offer of peace as well as good-will, and appreciation for your continued interest despite my behavior…” Hanzo took a deep breath, going quiet as a young woman appeared to place a dish before them, some kind of tofu thing with a dark sauce. Once the door closed again, Hanzo spoke again. “We recovered the device from an old anti-omnic militia group in China. They… no longer had need of it, and it had never been used.”

“Well that's mighty ominous wordin’ Mister Shimada.” Jesse tried not to think too hard on it, but Hanzo laughed quietly.

“It had nothing to do with the Shimada-gumi, I assure you. The group’s last operation against the omnic base they had been working towards destroying was defeated by Overwatch before the end of the Crisis and before their plan could come to fruition. It went undiscovered and abandoned because the organization was not entirely legal. They did not have the resources to move or dismantle it, and one of our operations came across it. It was a matter of chance and luck.”

“Oh. Huh…” Well that was interesting. And definitely enough of a lead they would probably be able to suss something out. “Well, their misfortune is the Shimada's gain then.”

“Hm.” Hanzo agreed wordlessly and set to his meal, turning the conversation to other more idle topics. It turned to their hobbies, and Hanzo glanced up. “Do you participate in any sports, Mister West?”

“Sure, a bit here and there. Nothin’ serious though. Dabble in some martial arts an’ such.”

“I see. I am partial to archery, myself. I began during my school years, at my father’s urging. I found it to my liking and practice it still.”

“That so.” That explained the expansive musculature in his shoulders and arms. “I can picture it,” Jesse said with a smile.

“Archery is an art. Patience and strength must be practiced in equal measure. Knowing when to loose the arrow. How to account for all factors. It is how I conduct myself in everything I do.” Hanzo didn't pause this time when their main course was brought in. “Both in business and leisure, there are expectations of the head of a family such as my own.”

Jesse found himself entranced, nodding along as Hanzo spoke, the soft rise and fall of his accented English. The remainder of dinner was more a social affair, and despite his eagerness to relay the new information to Reyes, he was somewhat surprised and perhaps a little annoyed with himself for how much he was enjoying Hanzo's company by the time they made their goodnights.

“I anticipate our next meeting may be as partners,” Hanzo said with an offer of his hand. The first time he'd actually offered a handshake to Jesse. He blinked at the hand for a moment, then took it, the feeling of the firm grip lingering as he let his hand fall back to his side.

“I look forward to it, Mister Shimada.”

The yakuza paused, glancing at Jesse for a long moment. “As do I, John West.” 

* * *

It was late when he got back to the hotel, but Reyes would be up. He didn't sleep if his men were in harm's way, or at least in situations like this.

“How was the date, _vaquero_?”

Jesse scoffed, waving his hand. “S’not a date, it was a business meeting. And I got info that might tell us exactly what we're dealin’ with.”

Reyes had the presence not to look impressed, but his brows arched in surprise, which only made Jesse's grin widen.

“It's salvage from some rogue group that was tryin’ to take down an omnic base in China but y’all at Overwatch took it out ‘fore they got a chance to use it.”

Reyes scowled, then nodded. “Not much to go with… A good starting point, anyway. I remember plenty of the independent groups popped up near the end. Thinking the military wasn't doing enough. Usually we were there before anything too bad happened, but sometimes we were too late…”

Jesse nodded, waiting for more. None came as Reyes shook his head, took a deep breath, and glanced back towards Jesse with that expression that he knew meant business and that Reyes was planning something.

“Alright, this makes up for your fuck up on Friday. Keep up the good relations with him while we look into this. Shouldn't take too much time, but buy us as much time as you can. The sale goes down in two weeks. That gives us just a few days to figure out what this thing is, and then a few to track it down. Once we have the location, we can get the hell out of here.”

“Consider my bags packed already,” Jesse quipped back with a wry chuckle. Granted, some of those high impassable walls that Hanzo had put up around himself seemed to have crumbled a bit with their last meeting, but Jesse wasn’t about to let his guard down, not with the itchy scab on his neck reminding him of how close he’d walked that razor’s edge. Sure, the guy was handsome as all get out, and charming once he actually stopped being such a hardass… No. He owed it to Genji at the very least not to like the guy. And that was a strong thought in his mind.

Waiting was torture, and while he could be when he needed to, patience was not Jesse McCree’s strongest virtue. He spent his free time exploring the town and sightseeing, visiting all the historic locations and eating as many different varieties of food the town offered as he could manage. Sushi was great, sure, but it sure didn’t express the vast diversity in the rest of the nation’s food, and Jesse cursed his luck at being based in a town in the ass-end of the Southwest United States that had one Asian place and it was more a mish-mash instead of just one type of cuisine.

He was sitting at one of the ramen booths that had become his favored place when his phone chirped that he had an incoming message. The number wasn’t in his contacts, and his eyes narrowed as he opened it, then widened in surprise as the messages’ contents revealed their sender.

From: Unknown [Private Number]

>Forgive my forwardness. I acquired this number from Akira-san. He has told me that you are quite interested in the food here, and I recall you spoke much of it on our first meeting. In a show of goodwill, I was hoping to offer to take you to one of my favorite restaurants in town.

Well goddamn. He added the name into his phone and set it aside as he ate, ruminating on what he should do (check with Reyes) and how his gut told him to reply (without checking with Reyes). He finished his noodles and sipped at the broth, then tapped out a response. Easier to ask forgiveness than permission, right?

>I’ve made my rounds to most of the places around here, but I’m always up for more of the food. If I say yes, should I be expecting more work talk?

He paid his tab, sliding his credit chip through the reader, and slid off the booth, the message light blinking again.

>I was hoping to speak more personally. If you are amenable.

>Two nights from now was the earliest I could get a reservation.

>I understand if you decline, as our partnership has been a professional one thus far.

Jesse whistled and stared at the message. Was he being asked on a date? Because this sure was sounding like a date. He scowled and tucked the phone back in his pocket, taking a winding path back to his hotel. He couldn’t possibly accept.

The echo of hospital machinery beeping and the hushed, worried tone of Angela’s voice still lingered in the back of his thoughts, and he stared at his phone, fingers tapping on the desk. He slid that phone aside, picking up his tablet and logged into the secure profile, pulling up the mail system and typing in Genji’s ID to pull up their last message.

The team had kept correspondence to a minimum, just in case something was intercepted, so the tablet had been off for the most part, and he was surprised to see a new message waiting from Genji.

From: gshimada@overwatch.org  
To: jmccree@overwatch.org

Doctor Ziegler says i am fully recovered. I have been reassigned to blackwatch under Gabriel Reyes upon your return from your mission in an effort to further my own goals as well as apply my skills most effectively. I will be at the base when you return. I look forward to being at your side, my friend. I hope that things are going well? I do not expect a response until the mission is complete. Commander Reyes has already discussed with me what to expect. He gave permission to tell you, but he said that work in blackwatch often prevents you from using regular correspondence until the mission is complete. Has he told you already by the time you read this message?   
I have been relocated to the base already, but it is very quiet here. Without you or Angela, I find myself with an absence of company. She is busy but keeps me updated on her activity at the main overwatch facilities. I do not expect the same, but it is quiet here and i find my thoughts often wandering to dark thoughts, so i keep myself busy by writing messages and i recalled i had not yet told you of my assignment.  
Please be well and i wish your mission completed with success my friend.

Jesse sat up and let out a whoop. He glanced at the time. It was late back in the states, so he’d just have to settle with a message. Vid-calls were risky, anyway. No telling how many securities Reyes had set up before he talked to the guy. So that’s what he’d been keeping busy with while Jesse was off playing super spy…

From: jmccree@overwatch.org  
To: gshimada@overwatch.org

That’s amazing news!!!! Congratulations amigo. This calls for drinks and a celebration when I get home. Can’t wait to be home again either. Food’s great, but the mission’s a nightmare sometimes. I’ll tell ya all about it when I get back. Shouldn’t put too much detail in here just in case, but things are going well enough. Good to hear from you. Any updates on how things are going with the doc? Glad you’re all patched up and in fightin’ order. You owe me some sweet ninja training after all. Hopefully nothin’ big enough happens for a while after we get back so we can catch up and all that. Take care! 

He hit send, then powered down the device again. Genji’s tone had changed from his last messages. He was more somber, seemed like. Reminded Jesse of how he was right after Reyes had pulled him out of Deadlock. Cynical and hopeless, bitter and ready to fight the world. Not the best time to tell him his brother was doing fine without him at running a notorious crime family, to be sure.

Reyes had given him point on the mission, right? So he should do what was best for the mission, and getting more information would never be a bad thing… Even if Hanzo had said there wouldn’t be work talk. The mission would benefit from it. And maybe his own curiosity as well, but that was beside the point, really.

He flipped over the other phone and pulled up the text message again. If it bought Reyes and the intel team time to gather what they needed, it would be helping anyway.

>Name the time and place and I’m there.


	8. Enchanted Evening

The time and place turned out to be a swanky restaurant on the north end of town at seven in the evening. Firmly in date territory. It wasn’t like he was actually interested, Jesse told himself as he redid his necktie for the fourth time that night, then in annoyance pulled it off, flinging the silk accessory onto the bedspread and unbuttoned the first button of his shirt instead. This wasn’t work, Hanzo had said it himself. It didn’t matter if he was a little dressed down. But it was still work for him, because he still had to play Mister John West, mysterious representative and charmer. 

He settled finally on folding the tie neatly back into its place in his dresser and left the room to catch his cab uptown in a pair of pressed slacks and a buttoned up shirt. A simpler blazer than the ones he’d been wearing to their meetings topped it off in the brisk evening air as he stepped outside, the sun hanging low in the sky as the taxi drove him across town. The driver made cheerful conversation, curious about him and immediately recommending several locales around the city that he ought to see. He chuckled and thanked the man as he stepped out, tipping him on the screen as he ran his payment. 

The restaurant was swanky from the outside, and as he strode up to the host podium, a young woman in a sleek but practical dress greeted him.

“Mister West?”

“Ah… Yeah, that’s me.”

“Shimada-san told us to expect you. This way please.” 

_ Damn, pullin’ out all the stops to impress me. _ Jesse managed not to stare as he was led through the dimly lit room, low conversation and the glitter of candlelight off crystal making the room almost look as though it was underwater. The most annoying thing was that Jesse was actually impressed.

He glanced back up as the woman bowed, and he glanced up to see Hanzo. He looked damn good in a suit, but even now out of his business attire, he cut quite a figure. Hanzo stood and there was a flicker of something that Jesse might even call a smile on his face as he gestured for Jesse to sit.

“Gotta say, Mister Shimada, this is quite the place. Definitely above my pay grade,” he said with a chuckle. Hanzo seemed to wilt a little at that, and Jesse bit back the instinct to immediately backtrack. “I appreciate it,” he said instead and slid into his chair.

“The chef is a friend of my family,” Hanzo said quietly, and picked up a menu. Jesse glanced down at his own. The neat Japanese lettering left him mostly at a loss, and he looked up across the table again. Hanzo blinked at him, then realization lit in his eyes, the intense gaze dropping once more to the menu.

“I do not know what you would like, but I can read them to you?”

Jesse set the menu down and his teeth scraped at his bottom lip thoughtfully. Fuck it, he was here for the experience. “Surprise me. We’ve had a few meals together. And you let me ramble about the food for ages. I’m not too picky, and ya seem to have pretty good taste. I trust ya to pick somethin’ tasty.” He grinned across the table at Hanzo. The Shimada leader blinked in surprise, but nodded.

“Very well. I believe I may have an idea of your taste preferences.” 

There was a silence over the table as Jesse skimmed the fancy characters on the menu and Hanzo seemed to be perusing it. He set it aside once the waitress approached the table again, speaking quietly in Japanese. Jesse caught most of it, but took in the melodic words. It was damn gorgeous the way Hanzo spoke it, his voice low and calm, and Jesse realized he’d been staring as the waitress thanked them and assured them it wouldn’t be long.

“So… Must be a lot a pressure, bein’ the big boss around here, huh?”

“Hm…” Hanzo stared at Jesse evenly, as if sizing him up, then sighed and nodded. “I should speak candidly. After all, I did insist this was not a formal matter or work related. It is difficult to fill my father’s shoes at times. And there is much that is expected of me as a younger man. He was much more lenient with things than I have been expected to be, perhaps due to his age and experience.” Hanzo’s gaze had shifted away from Jesse’s face to the tablecloth in front of him, giving Jesse a chance to watch the shift of emotions as he spoke. Anger, frustration, determination... and something like sadness. “I have done my best to be what is expected of me in this role.”

“Seems t’me you’re doing a pretty good job,” Jesse offered weakly, and immediately kicked himself mentally.  _ What the hell are you saying, he murdered his own brother! _ Instead of speaking, Jesse let quiet fall and thanked the waitress as a wine glass was set in front of him, a deep red wine that seemed to have the same contents as Hanzo’s glass. “I’ve been in charge of some stuff kinda like that,” he said as he lifted the glass, imitating Hanzo as he swirled the wine and sniffed it, taking a sip as Jesse spoke. “Nothing quite to the scale you are, but a few… projects. It’s a lot a pressure not to screw anythin’ up. So I guess I get it.”

Hanzo hummed a soft agreement and met Jesse’s gaze. “This is why I invited you. I feel somehow we are similar in many ways. While we are perhaps the faces of our duties, there are others with much more power behind us that are actually directing it. And it is not often I get a chance to speak to someone in this field who is… close to being a peer in my age group.”

The words surprised a chuckle of Jesse, who nodded and rubbed the back of his head, forgetting for a moment the careful tending that he’d done to tame the usually shaggy locks. “S’pose you’re right. When ya put it like that seems like we do have a bit in common, huh?” 

“I’m sorry, that was very forward of me.” Hanzo ducked his head, so Jesse couldn’t make out his expression, but he was back to cool and composed once he raised his head again. “I have a tendency to read more into actions and words than a person intends. Please do not hesitate to inform me if I’m falling into that habit with you. I would like…” He took a deep breath, Jesse watching his shoulders rise and fall again as he sighed. “I would like to think that we could perhaps become friends.”

Jesse barely managed to bite back an ironic laugh. He only hoped Genji might find it as funny. “We’ll keep in touch fer sure, Mister Shimada. I just gotta keep it professional while I’m here,” he replied diplomatically with a neutral smile, taking a deep drink of the wine. He’d need a bit more of that if the evening was going to keep along this road. 

“Of course. My apologies again.” Hanzo went quiet and there was a soft smile on his face as he watched the waitress set their meals down. “I hope that this does not ruin your appetite. You should at least have the opportunity to sample the cuisine here. Sanshiro-sama is a master of his craft. He was a close friend of my mother’s and has been a friend of the family even after her passing.”

Jesse regretted his harsh words and settled for a silent start to his meal, which was soon broken. “This is damn delicious,” he said, and forced himself to savor the bite in his mouth instead of shoveling more onto his fork. “A good friend to keep, if he feeds ya like this every time you come.”

Hanzo laughed, a genuine laugh, quiet and rich and inviting, and damn it if Jesse didn’t catch himself staring again. If Hanzo was handsome with his stern serious expression, he was gorgeous when he laughed, all those harsh lines softening.

Jesse forced himself to look down at his meal, stopping himself from saying something stupid by shoving a forkful of food into his mouth. Hanzo was a murderer, capable of the most unspeakable violence. He shouldn’t let the pretty face interfere with the knowledge he had already of what Hanzo Shimada was capable of, what he’d done. 

“You have told me much of your work, John, but I still know very little about you. If you don’t mind, I’d be interested?” Hanzo broke the awkward silence, both hands on his teacup as he stared evenly across the table at Jesse.

“It’s not very excitin’ I’m afraid. Sure you wanna know?”

“Hm… I could do with a little less excitement in my life, if I am being frank. I don’t mind.” His smile was sure something else. Jesse found himself smiling back maybe a little dazedly. If his laugh was gorgeous, his smile was like the sun on a late spring day, warm and inviting and damned if he didn’t want to bask in it all day.

“Lots of paperwork, but I live for this part of it,” Jesse said, trying to keep it as honest without revealing too much as he could. “Talkin’ to people’s what I do best, see. They don’t let me out and about to chatter at business associates much yet, but I’m hopin’ this’ll show ‘em what I got.”

“I am happy to put in a good word with whomever it takes to allow you out then,” Hanzo said, smile fading to something that was more professional, but there was still something in his eyes that lit with humor. “Would be a shame to see any talent with that charm of yours go to waste.” 

Jesse gaped for a moment, wine glass halfway to his lips as he felt his cheeks color. He was definitely flirting now, right? He took a long drink of wine to avoid answering. They fell into an easy rapport as the evening went on, and Jesse even let himself flirt a little back, but whether that was the wine with dinner or the sake afterwards, he wasn’t entirely sure, his cheeks flushed as he watched the dishes be whisked away from their last course, a single serving of cake between the two of them with fruit and whipped cream that had been almost too pretty to eat… But only almost. They’d ended up spending more time than he’d intended at the restaurant, until he glanced at his watch and whistled under his breath at the digits declaring the hour.

Stomach full and content, and a niggling voice of guilt at the back of his mind for enjoying himself so much, Jesse bid good evening to the Shimada leader and got into the car back to his hotel, wishing for a water bottle as the image of Hanzo Shimada with a streak of whipped cream across his lips kept resurfacing in his mind’s eye, accompanied with some less than savory commentary from his subconscious. You’re not here to find a date, just to get information, he sternly reminded himself as he shifted in his seat and slid out of the car, yawning despite himself as he hit the elevator button.

His feet were dragging as he stepped along the hallway, the beep of the door and click of the latch loud in the otherwise silent hall. He didn’t flip on a light yet, shuffling steps taking him into the main room where he pulled the folded sleep clothes off the sheets, glancing up towards the window idly and nearly jumped out of his skin at the figure seated in the chair there, shadows hiding his features but the silhouette one he knew all too well.

“Jesus, Reyes,” he muttered as he shrugged off his blazer to hang it back up, scowling at the man and finally hitting a light. “What was so important you couldn’t wait until morning?” 

“While you were out romancing the enemy, we had a chance to check out the intel you got,” Reyes said with a wry smile, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. Jesse sat down on the edge of the bed, just out of reach in a calculated move. Reyes didn’t seem mad, but he didn’t seem particularly happy either. Habit and training meant he set himself away from danger. “When were you planning on telling me about this by the way?”

“Uh…” Jesse balked, looking sheepishly at the floor.

“Mhmm… Well, we found the location of the bomb, and some more info on where it came from. Old group of ex-soldiers, most of them were injured and honorably discharged, people from all around but they had an engineer with them that designed and presumably built the thing. It’s an EMP bomb, if our information is good.”

Jesse glanced up, brows arched. “Electromagnetic pulse bomb? Doesn’t seem that dangerous, or worth what kinda secrecy they’re setting up.” 

“Hm… You think so? So… How well do you think we’d do if all our equipment went out at once, no nav systems or power in our planes or cars, no lights, no security, no phones. Omnics stop working, and so does anything else running on electricity.” 

Jesse scowled. “How big?”

“The way it is now? Not sure. We were only able to find notes and vague information. The blueprints and the actual device aren’t available, except presumably to the Shimada.” Reyes rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. “If it’s big enough, we’re talking city-wide, and I know there’s people out there capable of it. We need to find it and a way to disable it before the sale goes down, McCree. We have everything we need from the Shimada, it’s on our side now to figure out where they’ve got it. We’ve got a few locations picked out as likely spots and I wanted to check with you before I gave the go-ahead for the orders since this is your mission. Unless you got him to tell you where it was exactly?”

Jesse bit his lip. Just as promised, they hadn’t talked about the sale at all over dinner or dessert, and found plenty of other things to talk about instead. Their conversation had been… Well, it had been a date for all intents and purposes. “No,” he said simply, and shrugged. “But I can keep at ‘im if we need it.”

“Hm… Only if you think it won’t tip them off.” Reyes leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes intent. Jesse was pinned in place, and couldn’t look away. “Jesse, I’m talking to you here not just as your commander, but as the guy that bailed you out of the shit back then. We’re not friends, I know that, but… I hope my word has some weight for you.” He waited for Jesse’s nod. “Don’t get emotionally attached. He’s rich and charismatic and good looking--no, I’ve seen the pictures,” he quickly interjected with a wry smile at Jesse opening his mouth to protest. “But in the end it’s about the profits and it’s about getting what they need at any cost. Whatever connection you think you’ve got with him, it’s business to him.”

_ I would like to think that we could perhaps become friends. _ Hanzo had said it and his face had been so earnest. Had it really all been a lie? Then again, Jesse thought, remembering the scars on his friend’s face. There was always something more to a man. Hell, just look at him. Jesse nodded, and stared at his hands, finally breaking his gaze away from Reyes.

He heard the chair creak as Reyes stood, a hand clapping his shoulder, squeezing briefly. “If you need to talk after we’re back home, you know my door’s open,  _ mijo _ . Get some sleep. We’re taking a trip out to the location tomorrow night. I’d like to bring you along.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for sticking with me on this ride. It's been a rough patch for me in terms of creative endeavors, but I finally got through the block and we're back in business! Things are happening now and we should be wrapping up the flashback part in the next couple chapters.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this fic which came about because I have no self control and Overwatch has taken control of my life. It's a big huge work in progress and I'd be happy to have a couple beta-readers, so if you liked this and would be interested in getting the first peek at more, let me know! At the moment it's mostly self-indulgent needing to see all the ships I love in one place and all the relationships portrayed in the way I imagine them, but eventually this will have Gency, McHanzo, and some Anahardt at least, if not more.
> 
> If you like my work, go check out my Tumblr where you can find more drabbles and prompts for all my fandoms, OCs, and more! <3 drakochan.tumblr.com


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